


Carry Me Through

by son_of_a_bitch_spn_family



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Bad Perception Of Self, Hurt and comfort, Jace is so soft and very in love, M/M, Pining, Simon Is Very Accident Prone, Simon also is very soft and confused, Their Friends Are Supportive But They Dont Know It, aka Jace needs better self esteem, bc there is a lot of pining, did i mention pining yet, no one asked for it but here i am doing it anyway, people get carried a lot in this fic whoops, someone help him, the author partially disregards certain medical expectations, the we arent together but i got hurt and youre my emergency contact AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-01 19:57:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19184560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/son_of_a_bitch_spn_family/pseuds/son_of_a_bitch_spn_family
Summary: Standing outside in the lobby of the hospital, Jace works not to fidget. This will be the first time he'll see Simon in nearly two months. His heart races with anticipation, but his stomach quivers with dread. He almost turns around and leaves, but then a nurse swings a wheelchair around the corner with none other than Simon Lewis in it."Jace!" Simon beams at him, his arms tossing out at his sides. His eyes are a little glassy and his right leg is propped up. "Hey, man, you're here! Oh, it's good to see you, I've missed you a lot. You- you look good, but you always look good. I'm glad you're here. Wait, why are you here?"





	Carry Me Through

**Author's Note:**

> Some of you may be here from some of my other Jimon stories, so this is proof that my promise of making more fic for them isn't going away anytime soon. I genuinely love these two so much ❤ 
> 
> Come and see me on Tumblr; my username is: jimonsprettyface 
> 
> Without further ado, enjoy!

Jace has all intentions of going home after this truly disastrous night; he wants nothing more than to crawl in his bed and pass out for at least seven hours. Sleep is about the only thing that can wipe away the tragedy that this night is. 

 

It's not that Jace isn't trying - he really,  _ really  _ is. He's the one who asked Kaelie out, he's the one who took her on a date, and yet… he's the one who's leaving as if his chance for more got squandered. It isn't. Kaelie is more than interested in him, he can tell by the way she'd smiled sharply and programmed her number in his phone without asking, and by all means, Jace  _ should  _ be just as interested. 

 

Kaelie is his type. She's feisty and flirty, has a mischievous streak a mile wide, and is bold as they come. She's his type, except she's  _ not.  _ He wants her to be, desperately so, because if she is, all of this  _ moving on  _ bullshit he's been trying to enact will be much easier. Yet, Kaelie isn't his type, and though she's lovely, Jace just doesn't want her. 

 

He has no intentions of calling her. 

 

When his phone rings a few moments later, he jolts on the sidewalk, the vague worry that maybe Kaelie has  _ his  _ number making him frown. But the number blaring from his screen isn't one he recognizes, so he warily takes the call. 

 

"Hi, yes, is this Jace Lightwood?" a female's voice floats out, calm and steady, a business edge to her tone that reminds Jace of himself when he's on the clock and doing his job. 

 

"Uh, yeah," he replies slowly. 

 

The woman hums. "Fantastic. This is the Brooklyn District Hospital, calling from the Emergency department," she explains. 

 

Jace feels as if his heart has stopped. Thousands of fears whip through his mind -  _ Max, Izzy, Alec.  _ Then, the woman continues and wipes away all those fears, giving him an entirely different set of problems by what she says next. 

 

"It says here that you're listed as Simon Lewis' emergency contact; now, there's no need to worry, Mr. Lewis just badly sprained his knee. We have him on some medication that he's not meant to be driving on, so we'll need you to come pick him up and escort him home. There is, of course, some important instructions on continued care for the next few days while his knee heals." 

 

Jace swallows thickly, his heart dropping from his chest to his feet in a sharp dive. This can't be happening to him, not now, not after  _ tonight.  _ He's just getting back out there; he can't handle dealing with Simon right now. This is literally the cherry on top of the shit pie of the night. 

 

But Jace thinks about Simon, about him not being able to walk for a couple of days, about if roles were reversed. Hell, Simon wouldn't even  _ hesitate.  _ That's just the kind of person he is - the kind who sets his own feelings aside and does the right thing, the kind Jace scoffs and rolls his eyes at, the kind Jace craves like a moth does a flame. 

 

"Right." Jace clears the rasp out of his voice, sighing heavily and turning in the opposite direction. "Give me a little bit of time and I'll be there." 

 

"Thank you, Mr. Lightwood." 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


About two months ago, Jace had looked Simon right in the eyes and, with complete sincerity, he'd announced, "This isn't working out." 

 

The thing about it is, that was a huge lie. Simon and Jace's relationship had taken everyone by surprise, including themselves. They'd sort of stumbled into it by complete accident, crossing too many lines and not having a way to get back to the other side. A lingering look during an argument had turned to a lingering touch in moments of calm. A small, fond smile on Jace's face while Simon was rambling had morphed into a bright grin whenever Simon so much as entered the room. And one day, without a word between them, an intense look had broken into a heated kiss that neither had pulled away from. 

 

None of their friends had seen it coming, so their support was lacking just that, mostly made up of complete confusion. That, of course, didn't help the fact that Jace and Simon never  _ talked  _ about what they were doing. And  _ that  _ didn't stop them from doing it, taking what probably shouldn't have been and making it into something they couldn't escape from without some damage. Unable to leave each other alone, but unwilling to flesh it out and find what they had, they'd danced around it for a long time. In fact, for six months straight, neither had an answer when their friends asked exactly what the fuck they were doing. 

 

During the six months, they'd spent nearly all their waking moments together. Movie nights were more a facade for an excuse to slip under the covers and get lost in each other's touch, but there were just as many nights that they cuddled on the couch without saying one word about it. They'd fought more times than Jace can count, but for the life of him, he can't remember what they were about; he  _ can  _ remember what came after though - the making up part still hasn't faded from his mind. 

 

Simon, accident prone as he is, had ended up in the hospital on more than one occasion - it didn't help that Simon's a huge hypochondriac as well. Simon had put Jace as his emergency contact purely for convenience; Jace was always the one who came and got him anyway, the one who picked up his prescriptions, the one who reminded Simon to go to his follow-up doctor visits. 

 

Jace had loved every single second with Simon, just as much as he loathed it. He'd been happier than he ever was, but just as equally despaired. He never knew what they were doing, what they were, what they wanted - he  _ still  _ doesn't. And while Jace had wanted Simon more than he'd ever wanted anything, he'd known he didn't deserve him. 

 

Simon is good,  _ really  _ good. He doesn't come from a shoddy background, not like Jace. He has a wonderful mom, a lovely sister, a father who was took far too soon. He was raised right, it shows in everything he does, and he's just so…  _ bright.  _ He wants everyone to be happy, even when he isn't; he is a complete dork with a heart of gold, even while he's at his own low. Jace had  _ hated  _ that about him, had hated his capability to be so effortlessly optimistic and caring, even when he didn't necessarily need to be, or couldn't be. 

 

He'd hated it, but  _ god,  _ he'd loved it too. 

 

Jace is not like Simon  _ at all.  _ His background is far less simple - being raised by a madman and then abandoned at ten years old would do that to anyone. The Lightwoods are the one bright factor to his entire childhood, but even they hadn't managed to undo the damage that Valentine had done. Jace is brisk, rude, and cocky; he's severely messed up, but he's also eager to prove his own perfection, mostly because he knows he's the farthest thing from it. Jace isn't optimistic or bright in the least, he's more of a glass-half-empty kind of guy, and he is always aware in the back of his mind that he's the bleak presence that can and has taken over the people he cares about.  

 

So, even when hope had burned like ash on his tongue, it hadn't come as a big surprise when Simon had stared at him and said, "Okay." 

 

And just like that, it had been over. Jace had taken all his things that accumulated at Simon's and left without looking back. None of their friends had been surprised at first, considering that they had been confused why they got together in the first place, but they  _ had  _ been surprised when Jace had moped for the first month. He'd made it his life mission not to see Simon, and he hadn't. If they were doing a group thing that Simon would be there, Jace just wouldn't go, and while his friends frowned at him about it, they never said a word. Going into month two, Jace had gotten better at pretending, and when month two started to come to a close, he began to try and get back out there. 

 

It's not exactly working out for him. 

 

Standing outside in the lobby of the hospital, Jace works not to fidget. This will be the first time he'll see Simon in nearly two months. His heart races with anticipation, but his stomach quivers with dread. He  _ almost  _ turns around and leaves, but then a nurse swings a wheelchair around the corner with none other than Simon Lewis in it. 

 

"Jace!" Simon beams at him, his arms tossing out at his sides. His eyes are a little glassy and his right leg is propped up. "Hey, man, you're here! Oh, it's good to see you, I've missed you a lot. You- you look good, but you always look good. I'm glad you're here. Wait, why are you here?" 

 

The nurse gives Jace a soft smile as she slows to a stop. "He's a little woozy at the moment. Did they give you his keys?" 

 

"Yeah," Jace says gruffly, clearing his throat and tossing the nurse a strained smile. "I've already got the van pulled around." 

 

"Alright, I'll help you get him in while I go over the care he'll need the next couple of days." 

 

"Sure. Um, can I ask… how exactly did he mess his knee up? What was he doing?" 

 

The nurse's lips twitch. "Well, he said he was trying to crowd surf, but as soon as we doped him up, he said he fell off the top of his van, so we're not exactly sure the real story." 

 

"And he drove himself here?" Jace asks with a frown, crossing his arms. 

 

"Sure did. Determined one, this guy is. He tried to stop us from calling anyone, said everyone that mattered was busy at the moment." 

 

"Oh." 

 

The nurse gives him another soft smile, but Jace can't even force one of his own. He casually walks beside her towards the entrance, following her along to the van. A deep curl of hurt hooks traitorously in his heart. Everyone really  _ is  _ busy, Jace knows that. Clary is at Luke's cabin with her mom and Luke; Elaine and Rebecca are both on a cruise that Simon hadn't wanted to go on; Maia is in Florida for the weekend for a marine biology program for college; Raphael and Magnus both have a serious meeting at their company; and Izzy and Alec both volunteered to drive Max back to Robert's until he came to visit next time. Jace is literally the only other person out of their group of friends, but of course... he doesn't matter. 

 

"Alright," the nurse says, clicking the wheelchair into place so Simon won't roll away, "we've got a brace on him, so we're gonna want to set that seat all the way back. Yeah, good. His crutches are here, but he really shouldn't use them unless absolutely necessary. He needs to stay off that knee while it heals. So, you'll be waiting on him hand and foot for the next couple of days. Alright, now I'll help you lift him up into his seat." 

 

Up until that point, Jace has been listening intently and following her instructions. This makes him pause. Because  _ this  _ means he's going to have to be in very close quarters with Simon, touching him, and Jace doesn't think that's the best idea. In fact, he thinks that's a  _ terrible  _ idea. 

 

The nurse doesn't seem to sense his hesitation. She just helps Simon scoot forward and sit up. He's quietly humming to himself, eyes closed as he tips his head from side to side. He looks soft and sleepy, and Jace instantly knows that this is the worst thing that's ever happened to him. 

 

The nurse waves him over with an expectant expression, an eyebrow arched a little impatiently. Jace clears his throat and follows her lead, dipping low to pick Simon up on one side, one hand around his back and the other under his thighs. He tries not to think about it, tries not to focus on the action, and get it over with. That becomes a problem when Simon flings his weight to the side, curling into Jace, wrapping both arms around his neck and opening warm brown eyes to stare at him. 

 

"Hi," Simon greets, that one word soft and slurring. He smiles so wide that his nose wrinkles a little. 

 

Jace can't help it. He goes very still, blinking at Simon in surprise. "Hey," he croaks. 

 

"You're pretty," Simon informs him like that information is very important indeed. 

 

"You, uh- yeah, man, you too," Jace mutters, jerking when the nurse clears her throat. "Alright, Simon, duck your head, okay?" 

 

Simon bobs his head and lets it sink over on Jace's shoulder as he begins humming again. The nurse tries to help, but Jace just waves her off. He gingerly maneuvers Simon to the van, careful not to upset his injured leg, and has to reach back to unhook Simon's arms from around his neck. As Jace eases his arms away, Simon jerks his hand to a halt and raises it to rest on Jace's cheek. 

 

Simon blinks at him blearly, murmuring, "I miss you so much," before promptly passing out, his hand falling limp to his lap. 

 

Jace lets out a long breath, his heart feeling mashed up the wrong way in his chest. Swallowing, he eases the door shut after clicking Simon's seat belt. He turns to the nurse with a desperate kind of look, aware of  _ exactly  _ what he looks like right now, but begging not to be told he looks like a hopeless fool in love straight to his face. The nurse just smiles again. 

 

"Shall I walk you through the care he will need?" 

 

"That'd be great, thanks." 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Throughout the first night, Jace barely sleeps a wink. He tries, but it's not the easiest task to manage. 

 

Being back at Simon's apartment makes him feel jumpy. The problem isn't that it doesn't feel like his own space, the problem is that it  _ does.  _ His heart doesn't seem to mind forgetting that this isn't home for him, which doesn't help him  _ at all.  _

 

Another issue is the fact that Simon is splayed out on the couch where Jace put him, where he'll stay through his recovery. The paperwork  _ and  _ the nurse both recommended a couch where he can sit up and lay down, plus be able to do things like watch TV with minimal effort. And Jace curls up in the squishy armchair just on the other side of the wobbly coffee table and keeps vigil. 

 

Every time Simon grunts in pain, or sighs heavily, or shifts in his sleep, Jace's eyes fly open. Needless to say, he doesn't get much rest that night. 

 

Morning comes too early, and with it, Simon wakes up with no medicine in his system. Jace knows when he's waking up by the way he smacks his lips and fumbles around for his glasses he hasn't worn in nearly a year. The sight makes him fond; old habits die hard, he knows that better than anyone. 

 

Mostly, Jace wishes he didn't know Simon's wake up routine. He wishes that he didn't know a lot of things about Simon - how he sounds when he moans, what he looks like when he cries, the way he takes his coffee, his favorite song, the feel of his fingers when he's seeking out touch like he's desperate for it. Jace wishes he could scrub it all from his brain, but unfortunately, it's meticulously tattooed on his heart. 

 

Simon eventually remembers that he's been wearing contacts for nearly a year and cracks his eyes open, groaning in blatant pain as he shifts around. With a huff, he pulls himself into sitting up, his back leaning against the pillows Jace has stacked behind him. He has a small pout of confusion on his face, his eyes squinting sleepily, and he's so fucking  _ cute  _ that Jace wants to stab his own eyes out. 

 

Jace stays very still, his heart hammering in his chest. He knows it's no use, knows Simon will notice him at some point, but he puts it off as long as he can. But alas, after a yawn and another grunt of annoyance, Simon lifts his head and looks around. The moment his eyes land on Jace, he goes very still. 

 

"Jace," he blurts out, blinking rapidly. 

 

"You need to take your medicine," Jace mutters gruffly, launching to his feet and pacing over to the kitchen. He can feel Simon's eyes boring into his back as he gets him a glass of water and pours out the little pill he has to swallow for pain. 

 

Simon watches him approach, staring up at him as if he's stunned. "What- what are you doing here?" 

 

"I'm still your emergency contact." Jace shoves the glass and pill at Simon. "Take that." 

 

"Oh." Simon grabs the glass and pill, but doesn't immediately swallow it down. His cheeks bloom red in a way that makes Jace's heart twist sharply with fondness. "Sorry, I- I told them not to call anyone. I didn't- I just, I'm sorry to put you out." 

 

Jace crosses his arms. "Take the pill, Simon." 

 

Simon takes the pill, then proceeds to hide behind his glass, taking sips and looking over the rim at anything other than Jace. They stay completely silent until Simon has no more water to sip on. Simon slowly sits the empty glass in his lap and clears his throat, fingers smoothing over the glass in a nervous gesture. 

 

"So, uh, you brought me home," Simon comments awkwardly, eyes averted. 

 

"Yes." 

 

"You didn't have to do that." 

 

"There was no else." 

 

"Right. Um, well, thanks. That's- it was nice of you. Thanks, really, and I- I can have you removed as soon as I find my phone. I forgot to do that after- well, after. I haven't gotten hurt in awhile, so I wasn't really thinking about it. Sorry." 

 

Jace sighs, lips tipping down. "It's not a big deal." 

 

Simon clears his throat yet again, then goes silent. Jace forces himself to stay still, even when his whole body quivers with discomfort. A silent Simon is rarely a good thing; generally speaking, it means that Simon is uncomfortable or unhappy, or both. 

 

Used to, they'd sit in comfortable silence in the same room, just existing in each other's space, and  _ that  _ had been perfectly fine. Simon would read a book, or write music, or play lazy tunes on his guitar that had no direction or purpose. Jace would sit with his eyes shut, enjoying the peace and quiet, or he'd read a book of his own, or he'd casually play the games on Simon's phone that Simon got him hooked on. 

 

It had been relaxing; this is far from it. 

 

This is the kind of silence Simon  _ hates,  _ the kind that Jace knows grates on his nerves, and it doesn't take Simon too long to break it. Still fiddling with the glass, his lips quirking up at one corner in a stilted half-smile, Simon turns to look at him. 

 

"Well, uh, thanks again." Simon dips his head like he's bowing or something. "You can head out whenever, I'll manage from here on out." 

 

Jace huffs a harsh laugh. "Simon, your leg is literally in a brace. You can't  _ move.  _ I'm staying." 

 

"No, really, I'll be  _ fine,"  _ Simon insists, his eyes going a little wide. "You can- I don't want to be a bother. I'm sure you're busy with- with stuff." 

 

"My schedule is glaringly empty. No one else is here to do it, so I will." 

 

"What about Kaelie?" 

 

Jace tilts his head, eyebrows jerking up when Simon's eyes grow even wider. "What about her? Wait, how did you-" 

 

"Izzy mentioned it." Simon waves a hand, pursing his lips for a moment. "I don't know, I just figured you'd want to spend time with your girlfriend. Seriously, dude, don't let me hold you back." 

 

"You're not," Jace snaps, bristling with anger because Simon  _ really  _ is, but not how he thinks. "Kaelie isn't my girlfriend anyway, we went on  _ one  _ date. Izzy is just all about gossip." 

 

"Oh." 

 

"Yeah." 

 

"Still, you  _ really  _ don't have to stay." 

 

"I know." 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Jace makes himself as scarce as possible. He leaves Simon on the couch to watch inane TV and putters around in the kitchen. Simon has a few dishes in the sink, so Jace washes them slowly. That leads to him tidying up, picking up take-out containers and balled up sheets of music that never made it to the trash bin. Sometimes, he can feel Simon's eyes following him around the room, but he never lets himself check to make sure. 

 

He's terrified Simon will be watching him, just as much as he's terrified that he won't be. 

 

The silence stretches on for a long time, no words passing between them. It's nearly unbearable, so Jace keeps his hands busy and spends as much time away from Simon as he can. He dreads talking to Simon, but he hates the silence. 

 

Simon, of course, is the first one to break it. 

 

"Jace," he calls out. 

 

Sighing, Jace stops dusting the little figurines Clary has filled up the place with - she'd tried her hand at clay and making little things like that, and they're pretty cute. Jace grimaces as he puts the duster down; somewhere, Maryse is beaming and she has no idea why. Warily, he pads into the living room and steps up beside Simon. 

 

"What?" he asks quietly. 

 

Simon coughs, averting his eyes in clear embarrassment. "Can you hand me my crutches?" 

 

"Why?" 

 

"I need to get up." 

 

"Why?" 

 

"Jace, just- I need to get up." 

 

"The doctor said you need to stay off your leg so it can heal," Jace informs him, one eyebrow arching. 

 

Simon glares at him. "And  _ I'm  _ saying I need to get up. You're enjoying this, aren't you? Jesus, if you must know, I have to use the bathroom, okay?" 

 

Jace blinks. "Oh. Okay." 

 

Then, without preamble, Jace leans down and scoops Simon right up from the couch. He makes it look effortless because, no matter what Clary says, he  _ is  _ that guy who can't help but show off. Simon lets out a squawk and flails, his arms pinwheeling before reaching up to latch on Jace's shoulders in a clear last resort of survival. 

 

And maybe Jace is doing this because he likes the excuse to touch Simon, even if he knows it's the last thing he should be doing. He can't help it though; the feeling of having Simon's arms around him is strangely addicting. He carries Simon bridal style, his braced leg sticking out straight, and he doesn't meet Simon's eyes as he walks to the bathroom. 

 

"I hate you," Simon grumbles as Jace lightly kicks open the door. He's scowling, but there's an undercurrent of warmth and teasing in his words. 

 

Jace loves it. So, rationally, he says, "Feeling's mutual, trust me." 

 

Then, gently, he sits Simon down on his healthy foot, helping him tuck his straight leg backwards. He waits for Simon to brace himself on the counter on one hand and get steady, then eases back out the door. He counts to five after the toilet flushes, knocks on the door for good measure, then opens it. He's half-worried that Simon will try and hobble around, but Simon just washes his hands and arches an eyebrow at Jace pointedly. 

 

Jace bites back a smirk and scoops Simon right back into his arms, hoping with everything in him that Simon can't feel his erratic heartbeat. 

 

"You're really taking this  _ no walking  _ thing very seriously, huh?"

 

"While you seem hellbent on ignoring people who know more than you,  _ I  _ actually listen to them." 

 

"There's a joke in there somewhere about you knowing more than me, isn't there?" 

 

"The fact that you have to ask says it all." 

 

Simon snorts and rests his head on Jace's shoulder, his eyes flicking shut. "Say what you want, but there are certain things that I'm capable of that you definitely aren't." 

 

"Doubtful, but let me hear it," Jace challenges, slowly lowering Simon back to the couch. 

 

"I never said it was a good thing," Simon replies quietly, eyes fluttering open, a ghost of a painful smile flickering over his face. 

 

Just like that, Jace remembers that they're not exactly friends anymore, that they don't  _ do  _ this anymore. Jace has spent the last two months actively avoiding this trap, because it would be so easy to curl down into Simon in this moment and kiss him. Just kiss him and make the muted disappointment in his gaze disappear. 

 

Jace swallows and pulls away, taking a firm step back, averting his eyes. "What do you want to eat?" 

 

"You're going to cook?" Simon asks, perking up. 

 

"Well, you're in no condition to do it, so yes. Or, I'm going to try. You don't have shit in your cabinets." 

 

"You know I hate shopping. Grocery stores give me anxiety." 

 

"Which is why you're supposed to go after midnight, remember? We've talked about this." 

 

"Well, it wasn't a problem when  _ you  _ went grocery shopping with me." 

 

Jace freezes in place, nearly turned away to head to the kitchen. There is so much bitterness in Simon's voice, it's a wonder poison doesn't coat his lips. When Jace risks a glance, Simon is glaring down at his lap with his lips twisted. There's something else too, something that Jace doesn't like at all. 

 

Jace clears his throat. "Yeah, well, it's good to know why you kept me around so long." 

 

_ That  _ is most definitely the wrong thing to say. Simon's head snaps up so fast that Jace distantly worries he'll get an injury there too. If he was annoyed before, he's  _ pissed  _ now, and Jace really doesn't want to fight with him. He doesn't want a lot of things; at the top of his list, he  _ desperately  _ doesn't want to have to be here right now. 

 

"Yeah,  _ that's  _ why I kept you around," Simon snaps sharply, leaning forward like he's about to launch into a full-blown rant. 

 

The only good thing about Simon's injury is that Jace can make his escape without being followed. He does that now, striding towards the kitchen, flinching when Simon tosses the remote across the room in a fit of frustration as he goes. 

 

Jace does not pick it up for him. 

  
  
  


 

* * *

  
  
  


It's a clipped routine of Jace giving Simon medicine, then taking him to the bathroom when need be, then cooking him meals. He also hands Simon books when he wants them, his guitar when he needs it, and whatever else he may want. The TV remote lays against the wall in pieces, the batteries discarded, and Simon does not ask for it back. 

 

They talk, but only at the bare minimum. Jace figures he should be grateful for that, but it mostly just hurts. The words that he wants to say knock around in his chest, fluttering and trying to claw their way up his throat. He locks them in, doesn't tell Simon that he misses him, doesn't ask if they can be friends at the very least. 

 

No, Jace lets it fester, lets it eat away at him, scorching him from the inside out with just how  _ unfair  _ all of it is. 

 

If Jace had known that this is where they'd end up, he'd have  _ never  _ let that kiss unfurl between them. As amazing as it had been, as much as he enjoyed it, Jace can't help but despise it. This is what they talk about when they mention bridges that crash and burn. Friendships - or  _ whatever  _ they had before - go up like smoke, he knows that now, but he can't cling to the vapors. It makes him wish they never sought out the spark to begin with. 

 

He even regrets the aftermath. The afternoons where they tentatively touched without ever looking into each other's eyes. The late night dinners where they invited their friends a little too late, knowing they had other plans and couldn't show. The early corners of the morning, even before the sun woke the sky, where they'd go to the roof of Simon's building and watch their breaths drift white and pretty through the wind. Most of all, he regrets the ease in which they fell into each other, then the ease in which they fell apart. 

 

Jace is bitter and he  _ aches.  _ It makes him curt and rude, drives him back to the spot he used to be at before Simon softened him, back to insults and scowls and a deep pit in his chest that makes him feel as if he's suffocating all the time. 

 

Simon, of course, doesn't take his shit. He never really has, not even in the beginning when Jace didn't take the time to look at him twice. They've always had a natural banter between them; they  _ used  _ to joke that it was foreplay, but it no longer feels like that. Now, it feels like they're both using harsh words to dig at each other, snapping and snarling with so much  _ sharpness  _ that they don't know how to get out of the perpetual loop of anger. 

 

But that doesn't stop Jace from taking care of Simon. Even when he's seething with anger, he carefully makes Simon his favorite garden sub with the amount of onion he likes. Even when he's spitting mad, he curls Simon in his arms gently and carries him to the bathroom without ever upsetting his injured leg. Resentment seems to live with them now, making home where desire used to, but Jace doesn't let that keep him from making sure Simon is okay at the end of the day. 

 

In the afternoon of the third day, Clary facetimes Simon. Jace, who is in the kitchen, is completely unaware of this. So, when he walks out with two plates of French toast, he freezes in the doorway when Clary catches sight of him. 

 

"Wait,  _ Jace  _ is the one taking care of you?" Clary hisses, her smile freezing on her face. 

 

Jace rolls his eyes and comes closer, passing Simon his plate. He leans down to get closer to the screen of the phone. "Thanks so much for the vote of confidence, love you too." 

 

"Shut up, I'm sure you're doing just fine." Clary waves a distracted hand, eyeing him shrewdly. There's a streak of paint on her nose. "I just meant- well, I thought you two weren't on speaking terms? Not that I'm complaining, I'm just curious." 

 

"Izzy's rubbing off on you," Simon comments dryly, waving his fork at her disapprovingly. 

 

Clary waggles her eyebrows. "In more ways than one. But in this too, yes. Don't judge us. So?" 

 

"There was no one else," Jace tells her simply, but his tone is firm. "Simon can't really move, and only Maia gets back tomorrow; she has loads to do with classes, but I'm on vacation from work." 

 

Simon's head snaps over, their faces dangerously close, but he doesn't seem to notice. "You're spending your vacation taking care of me?" 

 

"Not my first choice," Jace mutters, eyeing him warily, silently begging himself to just straighten up or lean away or just  _ stop  _ hovering so close. 

 

"So, are you two having sex again?" Clary asks bluntly. "Because it seems like you're having sex again." 

 

Jace jerks back from Simon so fast that he nearly trips over the coffee table. His plate crashes to the floor, spilling syrup and his sweet bread straight onto the carpet. He curses sharply and darts away to grab what he can to get it up, ears ringing as Simon tells Clary that they are  _ not  _ fucking again, aren't even on good terms, and that this is purely made from unfortunate circumstances. 

 

When Jace makes it back to the mess, Simon's phone is laying on his uninjured knee, dim from disuse. Casually, Simon eats his French toast and watches Jace clean up his mess with blank disinterest. Jace's hands shake as he scrubs the carpet; he feels as if his heart is about to beat right out of his chest. 

 

"Sorry about your carpet," Jace mumbles after he's done all he can to clean it. 

 

Simon just shrugs, focusing on his French toast with open appreciation. "Not the first sticky thing to end up on the carpet, won't be the last." 

 

That startles a laugh out of Jace by complete accident. Without even meaning to, he chuckles a little deliriously, but with sincerity. Simon stops chewing and stares at him, his face softening with fondness, and when Jace stops laughing, he almost crumbles under that expression. 

 

Jace spends entirely too much time washing his one plate, then makes quick work of grabbing Simon's and taking too long on that one as well. He can feel Simon's eyes on him continuously now, and when he plucks up the courage to check, he's met with that same fond expression. It's tinged with nostalgia, a little sad too, and Jace can't draw in proper air with it pinned on him. 

 

Clearing his throat, Jace makes his way towards Simon. "The doctor said I could check your knee today. If it looks okay, you can shower and change into new clothes before we wrap it with ace bandage. I'm sure you're ready to get rid of the brace at this point, right?" 

 

"Yeah. I am also  _ very  _ on board with a shower." Simon reaches up and pats his hair, grimacing. "Those little bottles of dry shampoo don't do shit." 

 

"Alright, let's see what we're looking at here." 

 

Simon helpfully shifts to the side, letting Jace sit on the edge of the couch. Together, they both work to get the brace off. Once, their fingers brush, and Jace feels abruptly as if he's been plugged in - his whole body lights up, tingles running a warm relay under his skin. Jace swallows and ignores it, focusing on getting the brace off and rolling Simon's pants up as slowly and gingerly as he can. 

 

"Hey, it looks a lot better!" 

 

Jace purses his lips. "I mean, it definitely doesn't look  _ great,  _ but it doesn't look horrible." 

 

"Wow," Simon says sarcastically, "did they give you a doctorate for your apt descriptions?" 

 

"Shut up." 

 

"So, Doctor, am I cleared for basic hygiene?" 

 

Jace eyes the knee, frowning slightly. It's swollen and bruised, but it doesn't look as bad as the pictures in Simon's file did. Staying off of it has definitely helped. Jace is pretty sure that Simon will be up and moving in the next few days. He can probably use his crutches at this point. 

 

Jace isn't disappointed by that. He  _ isn't.  _

 

"Yeah, it should be fine, but you can't put  _ any  _ pressure on it." 

 

"Jace, I'll be  _ fine."  _

 

Sighing, Jace keeps eyeing the knee. He  _ still  _ has no idea how Simon managed to get the injury - Simon refuses to tell him. The sight of it makes Jace's heart pang, even when he knows that's stupid. Without thinking, Jace reaches out and gently ghosts his fingers over the side of the knee, just a barely there touch, and he freezes when Simon sucks in a sharp breath. Jace's gaze snaps up, which he learns is a very big mistake almost instantly. 

 

Simon is biting his bottom lip, his teeth catching against the skin, and his eyes are pinned on Jace with something flickering in his gaze. Jace locks down automatically, going still and just  _ staring.  _ Simon reaches out with painstaking care and wraps his fingers around Jace's, gently tugging them away. 

 

"Sorry," Jace rasps, pulling his hand out of Simon's, his heart thumping unevenly. 

 

Simon swallows. "It's okay." 

 

Jace carefully gets up from the couch and moves away to grab the crutches. He goes back over and holds them in place while he helps Simon up off the couch. Simon winces a couple of times, making  _ ah ah ah  _ noises as he gets his bearings. 

 

"I'll walk you to the bathroom. I'll grab you some clothes while you're in the shower." 

 

"I guess it's a good thing I have that seat in the shower after all. God, we cracked jokes about that thing all the time, but now it's the one thing sitting between me and impending doom." 

 

Jace's lips twitch. "Never mock the granny seat again. Alright, you ready? Don't fall." 

 

Simon flashes him a smile. "Just catch me if I do." 

 

"No promises." 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Jace calls Alec because he's desperate. 

 

"What do you want  _ me  _ to do about it?" Alec asks, disdain clear through the line. 

 

"Alec, everyone else is still busy. You're the  _ only  _ person who's not. He doesn't need much, just someone to make sure he doesn't fall. Please?" 

 

"Are you serious?" 

 

"Very. Clary gets back tomorrow and I'm sure she'll come take over. I just- I  _ need  _ to get out of here." Jace swallows thickly and sighs. "I'll owe you." 

 

Alec grunts in disapproval. "Look, it's not that I don't like Simon; he's actually not the worst. But Jace, come on, can't you two work things out?" 

 

"It's complicated." 

 

"Feelings always are. Why do you need to leave so bad? I know you don't hate him." 

 

"No, I  _ don't,  _ but it's not exactly easy to be here." 

 

"What happened to you two? No, seriously, I didn't want to know, but this is just getting out of hand. I  _ told  _ you that it was a bad idea, we all told you both that, but you still did it anyway. So, what happened? Where did it go wrong?" 

 

Jace hangs his head, releasing a long breath and leaning against the doorway. "It's… complicated."

 

"You keep saying that. Magnus says that things only get complicated when you don't talk about them." 

 

"While I'm glad your boyfriend is having a positive impact for  _ you,  _ I don't have to listen to him." 

 

"Uncomplicate it," Alec says firmly. 

 

"Fine." Jace rolls his eyes, clearing his throat. "Things were fine, we just didn't… talk about it, and I thought it would end badly, so I ended it before it got to that point. Simon let me." 

 

There's a beat of silence, then Alec sighs heavily for a long moment. "Okay, I'm not supposed to tell you this - Magnus made me promise, but this is just stupid. You know how you've been moping about it? Well, Simon has too. As much as you miss him, he misses you." 

 

"I don't miss him, I'm trying to avoid him." 

 

"Tell that to someone who doesn't know you. You're avoiding him  _ because  _ you miss him. I'm not going to pretend to understand what you two were doing because it's  _ Simon,  _ but I know you, and you're being an idiot. Again. So,  _ no,  _ I'm not letting you get out of this. You two have been miserable, which has made us all miserable, and you need to fix it." 

 

Jace opens his mouth to argue, but Alec hangs up before he gets the chance. Scowling, Jace chews his lip and stares at his phone. It's a last resort, but Jace is really reaching desperate measures. He can't stay here, can't keep existing in Simon's space. So, he presses call and waits. 

 

"What?" Raphael answers. 

 

"I'll owe you a favor," Jace says by way of greeting. 

 

Raphael hums. "I'm listening." 

 

Ten minutes later, Jace is marching back into the living room. Simon still has his headphones in, his head bobbing along to whatever he's listening to. His knee is wrapped in bandages and visible beneath the shorts he's wearing. Jace takes a deep breath and steps over to the couch, reaching out to lightly tap Simon's shoulder. 

 

Simon tugs the headphones from his ears, looking up expectantly. "What's up?" 

 

"Raphael is on his way over," Jace announces, frowning slightly. "I have something to do, so he's going to take over until Clary gets here." 

 

"Oh," Simon mumbles, blinking. His shoulders visibly sag. "That's- well, okay then." 

 

"I know he doesn't have the best bedside manner, but it's only a day." 

 

"Like  _ you  _ have the best bedside manner." 

 

"Hey, I did great," Jace mutters, narrowing his eyes in offense. "You didn't get hurt or starve." 

 

"True," Simon agrees, his lips twitching. "So… what is it that you have to do?" 

 

"Stuff," Jace says vaguely. 

 

Simon clears his throat, averting his eyes. "Kaelie stuff?" 

 

"What is it with you and Kaelie? Why are you so fixated on her?" 

 

"I'm  _ not.  _ I just- I don't know. I was- I'm just curious, that's all. It's- forget it, if she's what you're busy with, that's- it's fine, it's whatever." 

 

Jace frowns harder. "It's not Kaelie, I'm just busy," he says, words gentler than he means them to be, though he has no idea  _ why.  _ "Look, Simon-" 

 

"We're never going to talk again, are we?" Simon blurts out, cutting him off.

 

"I- we'll talk, I guess," Jace mutters awkwardly, clenching and unclenching his fists. "You just focus on getting better, that's all that matters." 

 

"Remember when we used to be friends? I mean, after we stopped arguing all the time. Kinda hard not to get along a little when we share the same group of friends." Simon huffs a small laugh, lips twitching up. He looks up, staring at Jace softly, his eyes warm like syrup. "Even before we-  _ before.  _ We used to be somewhat friends; it was nice." 

 

"Yeah," Jace croaks, "it was." 

 

Simon licks his lips. "We ruined that." 

 

Jace closes his eyes for a moment, his chest feeling as if it's cracking open. "Yeah, we did." 

 

"Can we- is there a chance we could, I dunno, maybe try again?" Simon asks cautiously. 

 

"Being friends?" 

 

"Yeah." 

 

Jace doesn't think he can do that. He doesn't think  _ they  _ can do that. To pull that off, they'd have to forget every intimate touch they shared - that's a lot to erase from memory, six months worth. But Jace is selfish, he can't help it. He wants to stop wanting Simon, but more than all of that, he wants to be able to be near him without worrying he'll ruin them beyond repair. 

 

Jace wants to kiss Simon, wants to share a smile with him, wants to hold his hand and shove at his shoulder and have inside jokes and moan into his mouth. He wants, and wants, and  _ wants.  _ But most of all, he wants them to be okay again, even without all of that, if it's at all possible. 

 

He's a glass-half-empty kind of guy, but for Simon,  _ because  _ of Simon, he's willing to pour the liquid into the glass until it overflows. 

 

So, knowing it's a horrible idea, Jace quirks a crooked smile and says, "I think we can do that." 

 

Simon beams at him. "Does that mean I can text you again? Will you start coming to group events again? Because, dude, it's just  _ weird  _ without you. And it totally sucked, for  _ all  _ of us. I mean, just because I was losing you, it didn't mean everyone else had to as well. Everyone missed you." 

 

And that, right there, is what tells Jace that he can't do this. He knows it, but he hadn't expected it to become so blatant so soon. Just like that, just because of what Simon said, Jace wants to hit his knees and curl into Simon and  _ never  _ leave. He's so,  _ so  _ weak; he hates it. 

 

Jace releases a shaky laugh. "Yeah, I- I'll be around." 

 

Jace is a very good liar. 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


A week later, Jace is doing his absolute best to avoid everyone. He's already missed three different times that everyone was supposed to get together. He'd botched his story to four different people, so there's no way they don't all know he's lying. He also hasn't replied to the six text messages he's gotten from Simon, though he rereads them a lot. All in all, Jace is just  _ exhausted.  _

 

Fortunately, he's back to work, which gives him plenty of distraction and excuses. It also allows him to come home and flop onto his couch before slipping into a quick nap. It really helps with his whole  _ avoiding everyone  _ thing. 

 

Jace knows it's stupid. He's well aware that Izzy and Alec will only put up with it for so long before they drag him back into the world kicking and screaming. Eventually, he's going to run into Simon again, but that's a future problem. 

 

Except it's not, because when someone bangs on his door and Jace answers it with a scowl, Simon is standing in the doorway with a glare of his own. 

 

"Oh, you can walk again," Jace blurts out, blinking. 

 

Simon nods. "Mhm, and you're a lying asshole, not that I wasn't already aware of that." 

 

Then, without preamble, Simon shoves his way into Jace's apartment. He pushes past Jace, crosses his arms, and glares some more. Jace  _ really  _ doesn't want to do this, but he figures he might as well get it over with. Stomach feeling heavy with dread, he walks the door back and frowns. This has a high probability of ending in a screaming match, whatever scraps of relationship they have between them finally turning to ash. 

 

"Simon-" 

 

"No, you're going to shut up, you're going to listen to me, and you're going to stop doing this to me." 

 

"Doing what-" 

 

"No,  _ shut up.  _ I don't care if you don't want to be with me, okay? That's fine, it's  _ fine.  _ But you do  _ not  _ get to shut everyone out. We all care about you, and we  _ miss  _ you, so just stop. Stop sacrificing your friends because you don't want to be around me. I get it, loud and clear, okay? You don't want me, fine, I'll move on eventually. But Jace, I want you in my life, even if we're not  _ a thing,  _ I don't want to lose you as a friend. So, just- just  _ stop."  _

 

Jace clenches his jaw, his heart racing in his chest. Anger and the horrible feeling of being done wrong rises in him like steam. He can feel it crawling up his throat, all the things he's been trying to hold back, the terrible,  _ terrible  _ truth that he can't escape. He tries to hold them back, he fails. 

 

"I can't! I  _ can't  _ be your friend, okay?" Jace tosses up his hands, hating how harsh the words sound as they drag out of him. "I can't  _ stand  _ being around you. I can barely tolerate you as it is!" 

 

Simon flinches as if he's been slapped. "Whatever did I do to you, huh? I- I can't figure out what makes you so freaking pissed off with me all the time. What did I  _ do?"  _

 

"You made me fucking love you, and I _hate_ it! I haven't slept right in two fucking months because you're not kicking me in your sleep! I won't turn my radio on because that stupid CD you made for me is still in there. I can't even watch my favorite movie because it played the first time you held my hand! You're all over my life and I can't fucking _breathe_ because of it. That's what you did, Simon! _You_ made me your emergency contact, _you_ made me love you, and _you_ ruined my fucking life!" 

 

"Oh!  _ Oh,  _ you think it's so fun being me? I still find strands of your hair on my pillow, blond and long and perfect, and I can't throw out your toothbrush because it looks normal next to mine. No one else knows how to make cookies just how I like, no one else gives me good feedback on my music, and no one else makes me happy! You don't  _ get  _ to be pissed off,  _ you're  _ the one who said it wasn't working!" 

 

"You said okay! You  _ let  _ me!" 

 

"Because I'm not going to force myself on someone who doesn't want to be with me!" Simon explodes, his hands flying up to grip his hair. He's going a little red in the face. 

 

"We weren't even together. We never even-" 

 

"I know! I  _ know  _ that, okay? But we  _ were,  _ and you broke up with me without us even being together, so how's that for rejection?" 

 

Jace groans, reaching up to scrub his hand over his forehead. "We don't  _ work.  _ We're not- we shouldn't have even tried. We can't come back from that." 

 

"But if you love me,  _ why  _ aren't we together?" Simon demands, dropping his hands and frowning. "I don't- that literally doesn't make  _ any  _ sense. If we both- if we  _ want  _ to be together, why aren't we?" 

 

"It's a bad idea," Jace replies immediately. "You're good, Simon, really good. And I'm not. It would end badly, you know that, and I was just trying to salvage what we already had. Didn't work out." 

 

Simon stares at him. He presses his lips into a thin line and inhales sharply. "You're literally the most lovable  _ idiot  _ of all time. I should have-  _ of course,  _ this is something to do with your self-deprecating streak. Why didn't I think of that?" 

 

"Huh?" 

 

"Shut up, just-  _ shut up.  _ You're so stupid." 

 

Jace opens his mouth to argue, even if he agrees, but Simon takes two steps forward and reaches up to grab his cheeks. Jace nearly swallows his tongue when Simon drags him into a short, yet hard kiss. It's just a blink-and-you'll-miss-it press of mouths, then Simon pulls back to glare at him. 

 

This, unfortunately, shatters whatever restraint Jace has on himself. Groaning, he reaches out to fist his hands in Simon's shirt to drag him closer. The intensity of their lips connecting yet again nearly knocks Jace off his feet. He stumbles back against the door, but Simon just follows him and presses him against it. 

 

The thing about it is, Jace has craved this for the past two months. The last kiss they shared had been on the roof of Simon's building, just before Jace called whatever they were doing off. He thinks Simon knew it was coming, just by the way the kiss had been soft and tragic - a goodbye without words. If that had been goodbye, this is  _ hi, yes, fucking hello again.  _ It's rough and like a dam breaking, so poignant that Jace feels as if he's being swept out with a tide without the fear of drowning. 

 

Simon presses into him and kisses harsh and hard, but there's a gentle edge to each swipe of his tongue. His fingers curl over Jace's hips, pinning him to the door, and Jace has  _ no  _ plans of trying to escape. 

 

Jace is only half-aware that he's whimpering, that he's scrambling for purchase at Simon's shoulders. His one focus is Simon's mouth making a mess of him, hot and heady. There's relief too, and guilt, but mostly… Jace is completely aware that this is the last straw - he's crossed  _ all  _ the lines and there's no chance of going back from here. 

 

Simon pulls away to take in a deep breath, his eyebrows drawing together. "You're going to date me, and you're going to start hanging out with everyone again, and you're going to  _ stop  _ thinking of yourself as some kind of stain on this world. You deserve love and happiness, and I'm the lucky guy who gets to be a part of that. Okay?" 

 

"Okay," Jace agrees, his voice cracking. 

 

"Now, I'm going to take you to your room, we're going to have  _ really  _ spectacular make-up sex, and afterwards we will put up boundaries for this not-so-new relationship. Sound good?" 

 

"Yeah, that's- yeah." 

 

Simon smiles, his eyes wrinkling at the corners, looking pleased. "And Jace?" 

 

"Hmm?" 

 

"This time, I'm carrying you." 

 

Jace laughs a little deliriously as Simon scoops him up and starts heading to the bedroom. It's the strangest feeling in the world, being picked up, but he doesn't exactly hate being in Simon's arms - not that he'd ever admit it. And when Jace's bed greets Simon like a long-lost lover, he finds himself relating. 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


"So, wait, let me get this straight," Izzy says slowly, waving a fry between them in disbelief. "So, you both loved each other, but  _ still  _ managed to break up, even though you weren't even together." 

 

"Yeah," Simon confirms, snorting. "We're idiots, we know. But I mean, it worked out in the end." 

 

Clary shakes her head. "We were trying to tell you guys, but you didn't listen to us.  _ Don't ruin things,  _ we said.  _ You shouldn't be doing the thing where you have no idea if you're dating or not,  _ we said.  _ You could really hurt each other,  _ we said. But no, you didn't want to listen to us!" 

 

Jace snorts.  _ "That's  _ what you called yourself doing? I was pretty sure that you guys didn't want us to be together." 

 

"I mean, Alec had his reservations, but that's just because he has to pretend he doesn't like Simon," Magnus says, lips twitching in amusement. 

 

As if he's being summoned, Alec finishes his turn and plops down beside Magnus, his eyebrows raised defiantly. "I  _ don't  _ like Simon." 

 

"Sure, dear," Magnus says with a chuckle, lightly patting his hand. "My turn?" 

 

"Both of us, actually," Clary confirms, hopping to her feet. She smirks at Magnus. "If I get a strike, you have to buy the pizza." 

 

"If you get a strike, it'll be a miracle," Magnus replies, following her to go pick his bowling ball. 

 

"It really sucks that you can't play," Izzy comments, smiling at Simon in faint amusement. 

 

Simon sighs and holds up his left wrist that's currently in a brace. "One injury gets healed, another one pops up." 

 

"It's okay," Jace says, reaching out to thread his fingers through Simon's uninjured one. "At least this one doesn't stop us from-" 

 

"Praising the lord, hallelujah, amen," Simon interrupts frantically, cheeks splashing with red. 

 

Jace grins wide and sharp. "Well, you do say  _ "oh god"  _ a lot, so that's not too far off." 

 

"You two are disgusting," Alec says firmly, but his lips twitching counters his words. 

 

Izzy rolls her eyes. "Are you not going to bowl, Jace? You're really good!" 

 

"I'm not bowling in solidarity for my boyfriend." 

 

"What he means," Simon cuts in, his eyes lighting up in mischief, "is that he's stealing all of your food while you're up at the lanes." 

 

Izzy drags her fries closer. "I will murder you." 

 

"Sure you will," Jace says with a chuckle. 

 

"Our turn again," Alec says, dragging to his feet with a sigh. Izzy follows him, sending a warning look at Jace as she vacates her fries. 

 

They stop halfway to talk to Magnus and Clary, all bright smiles and loud laughter. Jace hums contentedly and curls an arm around Simon's shoulder, leaning back in his seat. Simon winks and steals one of Izzy's fries. 

 

Jace is well aware that he's a shitty person, even while Simon insists that he isn't. They've been working on it - Simon never misses a chance to say something good about him, which makes Jace want to curl up in a ball and die, but it also works in making him think he's not so bad. In retaliation, Jace does his absolute best to be better, to make Simon as happy as possible, to be worth every damn good thing that's in his life. 

 

It's not easy, but he's trying, and Simon carries him when he can't do it. Sometimes, quite literally, Simon carries him - often to a horizontal surface - and that's always a good time. Jace returns the favor just as frequently, and when Simon gets injured again, he takes care of him. He stays the emergency contact for Simon as well, and the only changes that are made is the relation - instead of being on Simon's paperwork as a friend, he's on there as his partner, and Jace is stupidly pleased by that. 

 

"Hey," Simon whispers in his ear, grinning when Jace looks at him, "why don't we tell everyone that my wrist is hurting so we can go home and... you know?" 

 

Jace bites back a laugh. "You really play up your injuries, you know that?" 

 

Simon's pretty brown eyes glitter with joy and naughty amusement. "Maybe a little. If I'm always going to be a little broken, I might as well enjoy it, right?" 

 

"Yeah," Jace murmurs softly, "sounds about right." 

 

And Jace is a little broken himself, hidden whereas Simon shows it, but he thinks he can enjoy his life around his own injuries too. 

 

So, he does. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Don't hesitate to drop off some kudos and please leave a comment; I do so love them! 
> 
> Ta! 
> 
> -SOBS


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